f a gentleman with heavy boots. A moment later, and Matty ushered in a
very tall, broad-shouldered, strapping lady; if we may venture to use
that expression in reference to one of the fair sex.

Miss Deemas was a sort of human eagle. She had an eagle eye, an
aquiline nose, an eagle flounce, and an eagle heart. Going up to Miss
Tippet, she put a hand on each of her shoulders, and stooping down,
pecked her, so to speak, on each cheek.

"How are you, my dear?" said Miss Deemas, not by any means tenderly; but
much in the tone in which one would expect to have one's money or one's
life demanded.

"Quite well, dear Julia, and _so_ glad to see you. It is _so_ good of
you to take me by surprise this way; just at lunch-time, too. Another
plate and knife, Matty. This is a little boy--a friend--not exactly a
friend, but a--a thingumy, you know."

"No, I _don't_ know, Emelina, what is the precise `thingumy' you refer
to this time," said the uncompromising and matter-of-fact Miss Deemas.

"You're _so_ particular, dear Julia," replied Miss Tippet with a little
sigh; "a what's-'is-n-, a _protege_, you know."

"Indeed," said Miss Deemas, regarding Willie with a severe frown, as if
in her estimation all _proteges_ were necessarily villains.

"Yes, dear Julia, and, would you believe it, that this boy's
brother-in-law--"

"Brother, ma'am," interrupted Willie.

"Yes, brother, actually saved my darling's life last night, at the--the
thing in Beverly Square."

"What `darling's life,' and what `thing' in Beverly Square?" demanded
Miss Deemas.

"What! have you not heard of the fire last night in Beverly Square--my
relative, James Auberly--living there with his family--all burnt to
ashes--and my sweet Loo, too? A what's-'is-name was brought, and a
brave fireman went up it, through fire and water and smoke. Young
Auberly went up before him and fell--heat and suffocation--and saved her
in his arms, and his name is Frank, and he's this boy's brother-in-law!"

To this brief summary, given with much excitement, Miss Deemas listened
with quiet composure, and then said with grim sarcasm, and very slowly:

"Let me see; there was a fire in Beverly Square last night, and James
Auberly, living there with his family, were all burned to ashes."

Miss Tippet here interrupted with, "No, no;" but her stern friend
imposing silence, with an eagle look, continued:

"All burned to ashes, and also your sweet Loo. A `what's-his-name'
havin